


A painters muse

by TimeLess329



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:00:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26257525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimeLess329/pseuds/TimeLess329
Summary: After loosing his muse and inspiration, Nines sets out to find it once more. He didn’t expect it to be a jogger. He didn’t expect to become friends with him. Nor did he expect to fall for fall for him.
Relationships: Upgraded Connor | RK900 & Gavin Reed, Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed
Comments: 8
Kudos: 32





	A painters muse

The sun would not break through the darkened horizon for another hour give or take. Nines reached out for his phone silencing the alarm that was about to go off in two minutes. He placed it back into the table beside his bed and removed the offending sheets away from his body. He laid there wondering what today’s morning would bring. No use in stalling, Nines brought his hands above his head and stretched like a cat. 

Feeling the tension leave his body, he stood up with a content sigh. Not feeling yet up to the task he twisted his upper body left and right until he felt and heard the crack of his hips. With a smile he left his bedroom and entered his medium sized kitchen. Placing a pot over his electric stove top, he poured water into it before closing the lid. He checked his watch and mentally timed when the water would be done. 

As he waited for his water to come to a boil, Nines decided to get ready for the day. His clothes consisted of a dark button down shirt with equally dark pants, if looked upon closely one would see paint splattered everywhere. He gathered his pencils, eraser and his favorite sketchbook before going back to the kitchen. He placed his things on the counter and walked over to the stove ready to prepare his tea for the day. 

Before leaving he made sure his brother's alarm was set for work. 

It was still dark out when he walked out of his apartment. Not even three blocks away was a park, he had found it when he first moved to the city. It captivated him on sight, the greenery that surrounded the park was surreal, he’d never seen such beauty that it stole his breath and jump started his creativity. So for the past three months the park and its scenery had become his muse but as of late the park had lost its magic. He wished to regain it. So instead of his usual spot by the fountain he decided to look for a new spot. 

After walking aimlessly around the park and nodding at the passing jogger Nines stopped abruptly. To his left was a small pond with a bright red bridge running above it. Several plants bloomed around its perimeter and he could barely make out to what sounded like a waterfall. So he took that path not bothering to look the other way, satisfied he was making the right choice. 

Nines walked across the bridge, his grey eyes taking note of the pond and it’s murky appearance, the lily pads giving it a softer edge. His ears picked up water sloshing to the ground. He looked up and at the end of the bridge to the right was a man made waterfall; it was small compared to the ones he witnessed but still appealing. Nines gave a nod at the gate that separated the pathway and the waterfall, preventing anyone from falling into the pond. Still, Nines looked for the perfect spot, as he followed the winding pathway he ran into more joggers, he looked up at the sky and realized the morning light had painted the sky. 

It’s strokes created a magical view, as a painter himself, he admired how nature created such pieces with just the sky as a backdrop. He stood there letting the chilly morning air ruffle his dark curls, he breathed in its freshness before deciding to go back to the pond. Where his muse called to him. He took a step back and then twisted around not realizing he blocked a passing joggers path. The impact was immediate. 

In an attempt to right his footing, Nines reached out and found the only thing that could help his fall, the only other person around. His hands held onto the man's strong forearm but it only made the jogger lose his balance. With wide eyes they fell to the ground, one of Nines’ hands came to break his fall, the other still clutching onto the jogger.  
“I must apologize. I did not hear you coming up behind me.” Nines breathed out, checking that his wrist was alright from the fall. He winced.  
“Yeah, not shit. Here. Let me see.”  
“No, I’m quite fine, this is nothing.” To prove a point Nines twisted his left wrist only to wince again.  
“Sure. Right.” Not waiting, the man yanked Nines hand and inspected it. 

Nines took the opportunity to do some inspecting of his own. Their skins contrasted greatly. His own was pale while the man was tan with light hints of red and orange, he was the perfect olive tone but warmer and lighter. He followed the curvature of the man's arms, admiring the muscles that moved each time he turned Nines hand. He followed the ringlets of sweat until he reached his face. 

Nines let our a gasp, the man looked up with fear in his eyes which only made Nines gasp once more.  
“Stop gasping! Use your words.” With a gentler touch, the man ran and prodded his fingers against Nines wrist, hearing no protests he increased his pressure.  
“Well, it’s just strained. I hope you don’t draw with your left hand cause if you do, that will be a problem.”  
“What?” Nines said dazed.  
“You draw don’t you?” The man pointed at the scattered pencils. “Anyway. Pay attention to your surroundings the next time.” The man gave Nines a once over before putting his headphones back in. He stood up and instead of jogging he walked away from Nines. 

The alert coming from his phone brought Nines back from his daze. Like a broken spell, he looked down at himself noticing he was still on the ground. He shook his head, gathering his spilled utensils as he looked toward the direction the man had left. His feet wanted to guide him down the same path. Yet, Nines couldn’t bring himself to do any of that. So with a heavy heart he smiled down the pathway and turned where the pond awaited him. 

He checked his phone seeing it was a message from his brother. Telling him all about his new case. 

***

In frustration, Nines ripped the paper from the sketchbook landing beside the ever growing pile of rejected drawings. It had been not but two weeks since Nines encountered the man that haunted his very dreams. Nines glowered at the empty sheet, his pencil poised. Narrowing his eyes he began the outline once more, he began with the simple shapes that would form the eye. Several strokes later Nines reached into his bag and dug out several shades of green and yellow prisma colors.  
“You should pick that up.” The pencils had stopped coloring, he looked up over his sketchbook and there standing in front of him was the man, the very one that tormented his life. Nines had been right, the man’s eyes were a mixture of brown and green with a hint of yellow. He observed the man eyes before looking down at his sketch. It didn’t compare to the real thing.  
“Next time I’ll will call someone.” And just like that, the man was gone like an apparition. Nines blinked, wondering if it had really happened. Either way, he picked up his mess and gazed out at the pond. He ran his hands through his hair in frustration. He wasn’t going to get anything done. 

***  
A day later. 

Nines walked with determination and decided to step away from the pond and walk through a different path the very same one where he bumped into the man. No he wasn’t out looking for him, he merely needed a change of scenery. If only he could convince himself. Eyes focused ahead Nines followed the path until it led him to a volleyball court, instead of the fake green grass it was sand. There were more courts, some held volleyball others basketball. At the very corner was what looked like badminton. 

Nines wondered how he missed it his first time walking around the park. Narrowing his eyes he inspected each area until he spotted a bench nearby the beach volley ball court. He settled his things and began drawing. It took a lot of willpower not to draw the man, but he managed. He drew the scenery, the people around the area walking past him with their children and anything that caught his attention.  
“Watch out!” Nines perked up at the warning but it was too late. The sting of the volleyball hitting his face cause him to groan in pain.  
“He’s bleeding.” Nines could barely make out the words as his hands covered his nose. He knew he was bleeding by the trickle of fluid that ran down his chin.  
“Are you okay!?” It was a female voice. Nines groaned once again. Not because he was in pain but because he was surrounded by people and that made him agitated. He was not one for social interactions.  
“Gavin! Help me.”  
“Seriously.” Nine's eyes snapped open at the familiar drawl. His eyes searching for the man. Nines couldn’t help but grin, he had a name to the face. Gavin. 

Gavin sauntered over and knelt down, his evergreen eyes searching Nines face before shaking his head.  
“You know. I thought you were smarter.” Gavin looked around and spotted a crumpled piece of. He grinned and brought the piece towards Nines bleeding nose.  
“Hope that wasn’t an important drawing.” Nines shook his head no. He wanted to say more, to express his gratitude yet no words came out.  
“Pinch the bridge of your nose. No, don’t look at me like that- do it or else.” Narrowing his eyes he did as he was told and followed Gavin’s instruction.  
“I’m done. Let’s get back.”  
Gavin stood up and with a wave walked away to continue the game. 

***

Months later. 

Nines turned his head side to side, moved away from his canvas and then looked around it to stare at the scenery. Squinting his eyes he let his hands paint, each brush stroke creating elegant designs. Ever so often he would switch colors until he found the correct shading. His art was in no way professional to be hung around a studio or art showroom, this was a way to feel winding down after a long day except in the morning. 

Feeling like he finished the painting after a month, he stepped away from his canvas and gazed at it. Satisfied with his work. He was getting better since the last time he painted the pond.  
“I wouldn’t believe you painted that if I didn’t see you do it.” Eyes widening, Nines slowly turned around. His hands dropped from his chin to his sides, posture tensing. He eyed Gavin. The last time he saw him was during his incident with the volleyball and hadn’t crossed paths since then. 

Nines was used to the occasional comment about how great his painting was turning out by the rest of the people walking about the park. But this was different. This was Gavin, the man he wanted to paint but could never get him right when he did.  
“Is that a compliment?” Mentally he cursed himself.  
“Take it however you want.” Gavin shrugged. His dark brown hair was tied into a short half ponytail, if one would call it. His usual attire consisted of a grey sleeveless shirt and green joggers. The colors worked well with his tanned skin.  
“Got any more?” Nines raised and eyebrow. Gavin smirked up at Nines before diving over Nines paint station and retrieving a sketchbook, the very one where Nines had failed to draw him.  
“Not that one!” Pleaded Nines. Arms reaching for the sketchbook, only Gavin stepped away hiding it behind his back.  
“Got something in here you don’t want to be seen?” Gavin asked with a raised eyebrow. He brought the sketchbook out and handed it back to Nines.  
Nines let out a relieved sigh. “No, those are unfinished sketches. Not worthy to be seen.”  
“Whatever, man.”

Nines expected Gavin to leave like he always did and was surprised when he let out a huff and walked around Nines and his painting station. He took a seat by the stone bench beside the bridge. If he wasn’t nervous before he was now. He tried in vain to look anywhere other than at Gavin.  
“My name is Nines.”  
“Nines? Who the hell named you?” Gavin chuckled. He cracked his neck before looking up at Nines, awaiting an answer.  
“It’s a nickname. It stuck.”  
“Hmm. Gavin.”  
“How did you get that scar?” Nines couldn’t help but ask. He noticed it during the volleyball accident.  
“You know for a painter I expected quiet. You’re very chatty.” 

Taken aback, Nines took a step back. His canvas waiting. Content at the dry paint, he cleaned out his brushes from one of the cleaner mason jars and covered the dirty ones. As he cleaned and wrapped his brushes he placed them inside the gym bag that had a platform at the bottom and varying sizes of squares separating the mason jars from the brushes. Gently taking down the canvas, he folded his easel and placed it inside its own bag. 

Only thing left was to cover his painting with a brown sheet of paper before tying it with a string. He found the paper and proceeded to cover it and tie it. There, he was all done.  
“What are you going to paint next?”  
Gavin now stood beside Nines, hands inside his joggers. Nines felt his heart race, he prided himself in knowing his surroundings but as of late, he was having difficulty.  
“Not quite sure. Whatever inspires me next.” he kept his voice as calm and collected, he untensed his shoulders rolling them twice before settling. His posture screamed composure, inside he was a mess.  
“Right. Right.” 

Nines was suddenly struck by creativity. Out of the coroner of his eye Gavin had the most pensive look; it was a look of sheer concentration and annoyance, upper lip was set in a sneer. Nines took it all in. From the scar on the bridge of his nose, to the barely noticeable ones that littered his face. He memorized every detail about Gavin. He knew what he would paint next. 

***

Everyday that passed, Nines would find a new detail about Gavin. One morning his muse stopped by to chat. He sat by the stone bench, a backpack strapped to his back. He placed it in front of him and dug through it until he took out a bag of Flamin’ Hot Cheetos.  
“Want some?” Gavin shook the bag toward Nines. He in turn shook his head  
“A balanced meal is better than that.”  
“What are you, my mother.”  
“No.But Cheetos at this hour?”  
“Go back to your painting.” Gavin placed a handful of Cheetos in his mouth.  
Nines did so with an exasperated sigh. The week's painting was of the darkened sky with hints of morning light.  
“Are you a painter full time?”  
“I figured you couldn’t stay quiet.” Nines smiled. eyebrows raised.  
“Oh, shut it. Just answer the question.”  
“I thought you said to shut it.”  
Gavin flicked a Cheeto a Nines head. “Just answer it.”  
“I’m a police sketcher.”  
“At the DPD?”  
“What other one?” Asked Nines. Gavin stood, his bag of Cheetos forgotten on the bench.  
“How the hell! And we haven’t crossed paths!”  
“What do you mean?” At this rate, Nines was not going to finish his painting. He set his brush down and gave his undivided attention to Gavin.  
“I work there too!”  
“Oh.” 

Nines looked back figuring out if he ever saw Gavin at the precinct. There was no way he would have not noticed him. He looked back at the volleyball incident and none of the players looked familiar.  
“What department did you work in?”  
“I’m a detective.”  
“Detective. Suits you. Should I call you detective Gavin now?”  
“Nah. Just Gavin.”  
“Maybe I’ll visit. Your section.”  
“Maybe you should.”

It wasn’t missed by Nines the way Gavin gazed at him. Although it only lasted seconds, it was enough for Nines. 

***

For the past couple of months instead of drawing his new art piece at his spot at the park, which was giving it another go at painting Gavin. He opted out to work at home, it was safer that way, Gavin would have no way of finding out about it. Nine's intended to gift the painting, the problem was finding out the perfect time. 

The painting was covered with the usual brown paper that was tied off with a green string. Gavin’s name was scrawled at the far left corner. Nines peered up at the now familiar building. He nodded at some officers that recognized him. It was now or never. After much deliberation, Nines concluded that he would visit Gavin. In the time he got to know Gavin, he realized he never once asked him his work hours or vice versa. He could’ve easily asked his brother but he wasn't ready to share his new muse with him. He took several breaths before stepping into the building 

Alicia at the front desk waved at him when he showed her his I.D. She clicked a button and smiled brightly at him and went back to the man in front of her. The layout was quite simple. It didn’t take him long to make his way to where all the detectives' desks were. He stood at the entrance, Grey eyes looking for the familiar features of Gavin. 

Several policemen looked at him wearily but he didn’t give them much thought. Ten minutes later and Nines was no closer to finding Gavin. He gave up. He could look for his desk and leave the painting there or he could come back another day. Calculating the best choice me he began wandering the floor in hopes of finding the desk.  
“Nines. What are you doing here?” Recognizing the voice, he turned around and gave a small smile toward his twin brother. Although they were twins, Connor had dark brown hair and warm brown eyes.  
“Hello, Connor. Do you happen to know Detective Reed?”  
“Yes. But why do you ask?” Connor tilted his head. Curiosity shined in his bright brown eyes.  
“Where is his desk?” 

Connor pointed to the desk right across his own, a silver plate with Gavin's name sat on top. He nodded at his brother, walked a few steps and placed the painting on the empty chair. A bag of Cheetos, and an already cold coffee littered his desk. Nines shook his head but smiled fondly.  
“Hey, dipshit. Why are you all over my desk.” Startled Nines straightened up, a smile ready at his lips at seeing his friend. “Gav-”  
“Answer asshole.” 

Hurt by his words, Nines stepped away. He looked over at his brother and then back at Gavin who had not once looked up at him. Nines said nothing. He watched Gavin push him with his shoulder before taking a hard look at the wrapped canvas. Almost like a lightbulb, realization dawned on Gavin. He spun around ready to apologize.  
“Nines.” He said breathlessly.  
“I know the way out. I'll see you at home, Connor.”

**Author's Note:**

> How was it, enjoyable? Let me know your thoughts. This will most likely just be two parts.


End file.
